Glimpse
by Joycelene
Summary: Voldemort's gone, and all is well, right? No, as a farewell present Voldemort has given Harry, unknowingly, a 'gift' that will change his life forever. A journey to the Marauder's time, where Voldemort's past self is still strong, in hopes that the past


I'm new to the Harry Potter writing world, but not to the Harry Potter reader world. I truly hope some of you find me familar... I hope this story isn't *too* bad, but knowing me, it'll have a potential plot and a horrible author. Cya laterz!  
  
Disclaimer- I, in no way shape or form, own Harry Potter. Or Draco Malfoy ::sniff::. But I *do* own the bloody poem!!! It rhymes *and* makes sense!  
  
Title- Glimpse  
  
Author- Joycelene  
  
Rating- PG-13  
  
Book- They're in their 7th year, but the actual story isn't in their 7th year (you'll understand what I'm talking about)  
  
Teaser- After defeating Voldemort in the summer before their 7th year, you'd think Harry would get some peace. But no, Voldemort has given Harry, unknowingly, a 'gift' that will change his life forever. A journey to the Marauder's time, where Voldemort's past self is still strong, in hopes that the past will destroy his future.  
  
Prologue: He Ruins Me From The Grave  
  
Chapters- 1  
  
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Harry Potter finally did it. He finally defeated the Dark Lord in a heated battle. Voldemort had grown stronger since his 4th year, and it was pure chance and miracle that he finally defeated him. Well, according to Harry, of course. Everyone else knew that he could do it all along, that they always knew he was 'meant for great things'.  
  
"They wouldn't be saying that if they were in my place." He mumbled as he tried to figure out his Arithmeticy homework. Hermione had convinced him to do it this year instead of Divination. 'All a bunch of hogwash, I tell you. Now Arithmeticy is secure, is much more reliable and useful then that trying to figure out what your fortune will be with a teacup and tea leaves...' were her exact words. "Of all times, now I decide to listen to 'Mione." He groaned in frustration. I'd pick Trelawny predicting my death ever ten seconds then this!, he thought. Arithmeticy was so much harder then it looked. He rolled his eyes, and remembered that he was thinking about Hermione doing her homework. "Of course it seemed easy, this is 'Mione we're talking about." He murmured. All of a sudden, a box covered by red foil and tied with a gold string and a gold bow was on his desk. He's eyes widened in alarm. He'd grown very suspicous of odd, out-of- place, magical objects since his 4th year. He wasn't back then, and look what had happened to an innocent. He poked at the box quickly, and waited to see if he was going to be transported somewhere. He put his whole hand on there for two minutes, and then put his other hand on there. Nothing. Your just paranoid Harry, that's it, he assured himself. But still, there was something not quite right with that box. He opened the lid slowly, as if there was a surprise in there. Instead, there lay a parchment with scrawl much like his. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to figure out where he had seen that before. He shrugged it off and started reading aloud.  
  
  
  
Your curiousity has been your downfall  
  
Just as over confidence was mine  
  
Now you've been backed up into a wall  
  
For you never saw the signs  
  
  
  
We are very alike, you and I  
  
But enemies till the end  
  
You must now say good bye  
  
For the past I now send  
  
  
  
When he read the last verse, he's eyes widened. He finally realized whose handwriting it was, but it was much too late. He'd activated the curse, and now a spinning swirl of colors came from the box. He immediately knew it was a Dark Arts vortex, since they were now studying them in DADA (taught once again by Professor Lupin, of course). He learned that almost all vortexes were dark and could send him anywhere unless it was specific on where to take the person. Any object could have a vortex in it, all it needed was to have the right potion poured upon it. But it was useless until the person had said the activation spell. And he had, in the form of a poem. He should of been suspicious when he saw the box pop out of nowhere, that could only be dark magic. He should of known that it was dark because of the poem (many activation spell are in the form of poetry, so it would seem less subtle). But what should of really tipped him off was the handwriting. Voldemort was right. They were alike, and that's why the handwriting seemed so familiar. Because it was almost exactly like his. He didn't bother to try and tear his eyes away from the vortex, because he knew it was futile. Once you lay your eyes on it, you're mesmerized. Finally the vortex grew large enough and sucked Harry into it. The last thought in Harry's mind was hope that Voldemort hadn't sent him somewhere too bad.  
  
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"Will he be alright, Professor?" A female, unfamilar voice asked. He'd heard that voice before, somewhere in the back of his mind, but he wasn't quite sure where.  
  
"Oh Lily, you're so sweet and considerate. One of the many reasons I love you." The male voice told her, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Another voice made kissing noises.  
  
"Sirius!" They both exclaimed. Sirius! He can help me!, he thought as he struggled to get up. But he's body refused to oblige and he was stuck squirming around.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore, he's moving! Take the Body Bind spell off him before he hurts himself!" The woman exclaimed. Dumbledore is here as well?, he asked to himself.  
  
"Well, that was why the Body Bind was put on him in the first place, Miss Evans." He told her, and took off the Body Bind. He was struggling against the Body Bind so badly, that when he was released, he rolled off the bed.  
  
"Ouch." He mumbled, struggling to get up. Two people hurridly got him back on his bed. He lied down and rubbed his eyes.  
  
"Are you alright? We found you in our dorm." Asked a worried voice that Harry could only conclude to be Remus. Strange, he thought. He sounds so much younger than when I last heard his voice. He cleared his throat.  
  
"I feel like shit, I have a splitting headache, and my ass hurts. Other than that, I'm fine." He said sarcastically.  
  
"At least he still has his sense of humor." Sirius laughed.  
  
"You've always been optimistic, haven't you Sirius? Now isn't the tim- Holy shit!" He exclaimed as he finally opened his eyes. He was staring into the eyes of a 17-year old Sirius.  
  
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Everyone's eyes widened as he said this. He looked over everyone, and they all seemed younger. Wormtail, the slimy git, was also there for some odd reason. And a couple standing off to the side looked shocked as well. Harry looked over at Dumbledore, hopefully to ask if this was some sick joke or the side affects of a potion. But as his eyes went to him, he realize Dumbledore himself was younger.  
  
"What the fuck is going on, dammit?! I was doing my boring Arithmiticy homework like a responsible person, when I could of very well of been partying," He narrowed his eyes as he said this. "when all of a sudden, a fucking box, literally, pops out of nowhere! Then I open the fucking box and say the fucking poem and then I fucking realized that it was fucking deceased Voldemort who fucking did this and then I got fucking sucked into a fucking vortex! Then I fucking wake up, I find a younger Dumbledore, a younger Sirius, a younger Remus, and Wormtail's here!" He exclaimed. Everyone gasped as he said Voldemort, with the exception Dumbledore who's eyes widened and Peter who just shifted uncomfortably. (AN: Can anyone tell the I was just watching Dogma? ... Yeah...) Dumbledore recovered first from the shock.  
  
"What's your name young man?" Dumbledore asked to cut the tension. Harry started laughing. Everyone stared at him oddly.  
  
"You think he's a runaway from St. Mungo's?" Sirius asked Remus. Remus glared at him. Sirius just shrugged. When he finally calmed down, he began to speak.  
  
"I have many names. One is The Boy Who Lived, very common amongst wizards and witches. Another one is 'Dumbledore's Golden Boy' which was bestowed on me by Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin bunch. But the most common among them all is," He coughed and watched as they eagerly waited for what he was about it say. He started laughing again. "Wow, you guys crack me up! I mean, now honestly, how could you forget *my* name? I mean, I'm not trying to sound stuck-up but I'm in *books*! How do you forget 'the boy who weakened Voldemort at the tender age of one at the price of his parents. Who had lived with his Muggle aunt and uncle for a majority of his life until he finally found that he was someone significant in both Muggle and Wizardry worlds, although he is more esteemed in the Wizardry world. Who fought Voldemort every year at Hogwarts, and finally defeated him in the summer before his 7th year. The boy who's name will be permantly printed in books around the world who are wizards. The great Harry Potter!'? Well, in Rita Skeeter's words, really." He laughed. Everyone was staring at him. "Wow, whats the matter with you guys? Oh, I get it. I bet you never thought I'd sink so low as to read a Rita Skeeter article. Yeah, well... the things you do when you're bored, huh?" He chuckled again. It was dead silent as everyone stared at him. Madam Pomfrey walked towards Dumbledore.  
  
"Should I get a Veritserum (AN: Is that right?), Albus?" She questioned. Harry's eyes widened.  
  
"Madam Pomfrey, I do *not* need a Veritserum! Honestly, you've all gone nutters haven't you?" Harry questioned. He shifted uncomfortably, wondering what he was missing. Suddenly, realization dawned upon him. "My wand!" He exclaimed, and reached for it. He grabbed it but it was taken immediately out of his hands.  
  
"Accio Wand!" Dumbedlore exclaimed. Dumbledore put Harry's wand in his other hand. "You won't get this back until you tell us who you really are." He informed him. Harry's eyes widened.  
  
"What?! Dumbledore, you know who I am! This is bloody crazy!" He exclaimed. Sirius sniggered.  
  
"Then again, so are you." He mumbled. Everyone glared at him with the exception of Peter, who was looking quite worried. Harry just put his head back into his pillow.  
  
"You've all gone nutters... Waitaminute!" He thought as he searched his pockets. He was relieved that Madam Pomfrey hadn't changed his clothes. "We are very alike, you and I/But enemies till the end/You must now say good bye/For the past I now send!" He exclaimed. "That's it! What year is it Professor?" He asked, hoping that he was right. Dumbledore looked at him strangely while Sirius started making a 'cuckoo' sign at the side of his head.  
  
"Why, it's 1977. Why do you ask?"  
  
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Lame! That was a horrible, but it's the effort that counts I guess. Well... review (not a lot of flames please, I know it sucked. I'm tired, and I think that's mostly why it sucks.  
  
Peace, love, and Furbies©,  
  
Joycelene  
  
E-mail me at enchanted_roses01@yahoo.com 


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